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Story:The First Battle
This is a two chapter story written by Sethanic, the Emperor of Belden and the Defiler of Del'Kye. For the sequel, please click here. Chapter 1: Decision Cinahtes (Sin-a-hes) was sitting in his throne when the door burst open a panting and sweating messenger ran up to him. 'My liege,' he started. He was bent over and leaning on his knees while hyperventilating. 'There have been reports of growing forces from the Moon Elf Capital. An army of ten thousand is ready and more are being prepared. Spies tell us they are going to leave in about 20 days and arrive forty days after that.' The messenger collapsed in a heap on the floor. A pair guards hiding in the shadows moved into the light and carried the messenger away. The doors shut with a bang. Cinahtes pondered this. War was an uneasy subject, though most citizens in Belden had never seen their great city attacked. Building a proper army to hold their ground would be tough, but Belden had thrived throughout the hundred years of its existence and it would continue to do so. An army couldn't and wouldn't stop that, even if the rumours of Del'Kye were true. The Belden Lancers wouldn't be good at defending. They were a voluntary army which raid settlements and villages that posed a threat to Belden. If not for them the city wouldn't still be around. They were often called heroes and their fighting skills were top notch, but thet couldn't hold ground. They could only attack. Cinahtes thought for a bit more before organising a council meeting with every species' representatives about this war and how it should be handled. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ In the dark, eerily lit, circular room, there was a throne at the far end from the entrance for the Emperor. Along the sides of the room there were highly decorated chairs for the other Council members. In them sat the representatives themselves, while Cinahtes was in the throne, slightly higher than the other chairs, though not very noticable. 'Some of you likely know why I have gathered you all here,' Cinahtes started. He waited a second before continuing. 'There is an uncoming war with the Moon Elves for you who did not know the full details.' Half of the room stayed quiet while the other half had muttered whispers and brief dissussion. After the momentary noise had died down, Cinahtes spoke again. 'This vote shall decide whether we prepare for our war against the Moon Elves in Qairayh. Or not.' Cinathes looked around the room at the faces before him one by one. 'Cast your votes!' he suddenly cried, lifting his head, expressing each word to the amount that required a word to be said every second. Sounds of scribbling with pen and paper were heard, along with minor debation. Cinahtes himself wrote down his answer along with details of his plan. After a minute, Cinahtes rasied his hand and said a single word. 'Stop.' The pens were put down and the people looked up at the Emperor. 'Tomorrow the results will have been chosen. To all of you: Leave in peace.' The representatives stood up and left the room in silence. Cinhtes stayed put for a minute before leaving, double checking he correctly wrote down his plan. He strode out of the dark room and into the lighter rooms of the building. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ The next day Cinahtes was hoping for the best and preparing for the worst. He had no idea of the results, but more than four of the eighteen agreed with him at least. He sat in a row of chairs beside the other members of the Council. A lot of his work involved sitting and talking. A human announcer was in front of him and the others and He was speaking to quite a large crowd. 'Ladies, Gentleman and Genderless! Today we are all here to see me, Alan, the announcer, announce the result of the Council meeting of whether we should all go to war against the Moon Elves.' Cinahtes shuffled in his seat. This would be a close vote. Alan opened a letter and adressed the crowd once more. 'The result of the meeting of the Council of whether we should all go to war against the Moon Elves is...' He left it hanging to gather tension. He was obviously a professional. 'At ten votes to eight votes...' 'War.' Chapter 2: Outbreak The Snow Elf called Terra was after completing her training. She had militaristic discipline beaten into her along with skills with a bow and arrow. She liked to operate solo and was the best of her group, the 106th, with a bow, able to dodge past arrows with apparent ease. She was being stationed at Tartarus, an outpost on the fringes of Belden influence. It was the most likely place for the Moon Elves to attack. During the first few days she was settling in, getting used to everything, the usual. Until her third day. Terra was paying her respects to Lt. Surge, a master gymnist who had insane ideas about making a giant tower to power a giant lightning cannon. He was liked by everyone, due to his friendliness but disease had got to him at last. As Terra walked by and thought things related to her former Lt. She picked up on something. There was a growing black patch on his thumb. Terra continued to walk on past. It was probably nothing, though the desire to focus on it was gnawing at the back of her head while the ceremony went through as normal. Until the end. As men lifted up the coffin, they screamed when they looked in and dropped the coffin in shock. The priest went over to it and a strange sort of curiousity filled him. He fingered the black ashes that used to be Lt. Surge and he postponed the ceremony. Terra was worried. That black... stuff had devoured him. And if his cause of death was correct, then this disease was likely on the priest. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Two days later the priest died as Terra predicted. The same black stuff was there on him at the funeral. Terra watched as his foot disintergrated before her eyes. She nearly puked, but her resolve held. Over a week later a dozen people had died in that time, all of the same substance. Some people were trying to limit contact with others, while some continued on as normal while the thoughts of being next eating away at their confidence the entire time. A messenger called Rick O'Sé was sent off to Belden itself as he was a recent arrival and the least likely to have caught the disease. A month later seventy people had died out of the two hundred people there. At this rate, half of the expected defenders would be still alive by the time the Moon Elves arrived in force. Only two deaths were Veptims due to their adaptive nature, making the other fifty of them immune, while a few others had touched the powder and not died a week later. You died roughly three days after infection through contact with the infected persons or powder. The Moon Elves were in sight as the number of survivors were whittled down to fifty. More Veptims had died as it adapted faster than they did. Terra had defiantly been infected, but no signs of it were showing thankfully. The last ten archers tighten their strings and made sure everything was in working order. A scouting force of fifty Moon Elves were arriving in full gear. Terra nocked an arrow and aimed the bow high. The arrow shot with a ping and embedded itself in the neck of a Moon Elf who crumpled immidiately. The formation adjusted itself accordingly as another arrow landed in a vital area not covered by armour. Two more arrows killed in the opening salvo. The second slavo had Terra kill one more. The next six salvos had a total of 26 more dead. Then they arrived. The entrance was suddenly flung open and the 19 entered melee combat with 16 halberdiers, all Veptim. The quick battle was lopsided as only one person managed to flee further into the outpost with only six Moon Elf casualties. The 13 marched on. They encountered the rest of the force. A halberdier who was all over the place, 24 men all tired and weary and 10 archers who were moderately good shots in general. Close quarters combat. 11 soldiers died for another six Moon Elves. The archers fired and killed a total of two Moon Elves, taking their total down to five. The remaing Elven force pushed and killed the rest of the opposing force with three deaths. 10 people not very good in close combat against a pair close combat experts. Bad idea for the majority. Terra losened an arrow but it gazed the soldier's armour. The others did the same with no success. Terra lunged at one with her knife and she killed it by lodging the dagger in its neck before it could act. A lucky stroke. The other went in for the kill and killed eight of the archers in seconds, their weapons no match for their sword. It was a two on one fight. Terra grabbed her last arrow and threw it. It hit the Elf in the head and he was knocked out and bleeding. Terra went over to the terrorised Sun Elf curled up in a corner, who was crying her eyes out. 'Don't worry,' Terra reassured her . She bent down to her level and put a hand on her shoulder. 'Everything will be OK.' That was for her good as much as Terra's good. 'NO IT WON'T! 'I'm infected. I'm infected... I am... in...fect...' Terra sighed and stood up while looking about. More of them, she thought as she saw more attackers in the distance. She looked at the Elf and sighed. The virus had gotten to her and broken her nerves. She was going insane with all of the classic symtoms. This was the first time anyone had seen a proper battle, even a small one like that and with only a portion of their number... This disease. Could it have been manufactured by someone... or something? Category:Fiction